Reflection on Dine

            In her discussion of performance art, particularly that of Jim Dine, Stiles often refers to concepts such as “interstitial continuum” and “commissure.” The former term indicates an ongoing dialogue between subjects; further still, the performance artist intends to blur the lines of distinction between subjects, including those that make up the distinction between the permanent self and temporaneous work. For Dine, by more readily integrating self into the performative action (in The Smiling Workman), it allows the artist to “externalize his internal urgency in delirious, visual movement. … Paint and picture conjoined with Dine’s body as a continuum of surfaces and receptacles.” (Stiles, 78)

One could understandably ascribe this mode of expression as similar to that of Carolee Schneeman in her Interior Scroll (though their subjective purposes differ entirely). Compare the previous quotation with that in Jones (3) – “Schneeman integrated the occluded interior of the female body (with the vagina as ‘a translucent chamber’) with its mobile, and apparently eminently readable (obviously ‘female’) exterior (Jones’ emphasis).” Here, the “interstitial continuum” operates on a level where the artist may initiate a personal dialogue between his/her psyche and/or body, and the performative action. And simultaneously, those who witness the spectacle are either willingly or more forcibly pulled into this state of “intersubjectivity,” where they might recognize an interconnectedness within themselves, a common thread that ties the self to the act. Stiles defines this concept of interconnectedness as “commissure,” its very purpose as a connector. “Through its emphasis on exchange, performance offers a model for a transpersonal aesthetics of interconnectivity.” (83)

There’s a detail of Dine’s Smiling Workman that I personally found intriguing and wanted to expand on: Dine’s preparation of the canvas, with particular focus on the handprints, leading up to the actual performative act. In Stiles’ formal description of the act, she provides some details of the set-up: “In [the stage flat’s] central panel he had earlier painted a raw-edged, gestural semicircular white form, as if priming a canvas using broad expressive brush strokes. Dine—who is left-handed—had also earlier dipped his left hand into the white paint and applied multiple prints of it to both the right and left sides of this painted white surface.” (77)

I believe that Stiles is accurate in deciphering the use of handprints as a metaphoric “parenthetical enclosure” or frame, which would encapsulate, control, and therefore, emphasize the act to take place within. I also find special significance to the resonance that the lingering presence of the handprints has on the act itself – for the artist’s intention to apply them beforehand. Had the artist chosen to apply these handprints during the performance, the prominent sense of temporality, or the significance of memory, would not have been as recognizably infused into the work.

I compare this to surviving cave paintings. In those discovered, the scientific process of dating groups of paintings has revealed that there can be a significant variance in the time in which they were done; at times, they even fall into separation of thousands of years. One can get the uncanny sense that s/he is part of a dialogue, a kind of interconnectivity between the present and prehistory. In both the experience of witnessing Dine’s performance and that of viewing cave paintings, the viewer can be drawn into an engaging stance, to expand her/his consciousness of this interconnectivity. Yet, in the case of The Smiling Workman, Dine offers himself up as a living “commissure;” the frantic energy involved in his performance heighten the potency of that interconnectivity. (83)